Bad Day
by Jade003
Summary: Everyone has a bad day, even Zack.


So, I was thinking to myself, there's all those fics about Cloud or Seph or Vincent being all down and moody, so what about Zack? Not one to be left out, my Zack muse wrote this out for me. Kinda a rambling rant thingy. Hope you like it.

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Zack winkled his nose as an unusually strong wisp of cigarette smoke and the smell of day old sweat drifted by. He shifted in his seat and the stench returned to its normal, only slightly irritating smell, one that he had gotten used to within hours the first time he had ever ventured into a bar. Which, if he thought about it, was only a few years ago. Or was it two? Had to be more than one, he'd taken a few men out to get drunk last year since he was the one who knew the best spots where for that type of thing. It had been one of their birthdays and so, of course, they had to get completely smashed. It had been fun even if he had been the only one sober by the end and trying, with little success, in getting five other almost-grown men back to their barracks without anyone else being the wiser. Ah, but the hangovers they all had the next day… He just had to take advantage of the situation since it was rare you could bring a member of the Shinra army to his knees just by blowing an innocent little whistle.

…He supposed he wouldn't be doing anything like that any time soon.

Trying to impede the next wave of misery before it hit, he downed the half glass full he had in hand before refilling it and gulping that one just as quickly. Having just tested the weight of the container, he filled his glass again until the last few drops fell from the glass lip. Making eye contact with the bartender, he shook his now empty bottle and waited for the next one to be placed on the counter in front of him. Grunting his thanks, he finished his glass once again and started in on the new one. No need to hold back, right? The damnable mako in his blood made it so he couldn't even get drunk until the second bottle anyway.

Suddenly feeling way too vulnerable at the bar, the Soldier grabbed his bottle and glass, slipped off his stool and walked over to one of the empty booths, sliding into the corner until his back was against the wall, one leg stretched out on the cushioned bench. Most of the other booths were similarly occupied, lone men – or women, don't say he wasn't sexist – sitting with some form of alcohol as their only companion. A few smoked as well, the grey haze drifting lazily about on the ceiling.

The bar overall was hushed. The lights were soft throughout most of the tavern and dim in the booths. Soft music from behind the counter offered more a constant white noise than any indication that there would be a sudden break out of a loud, drunken party. Over the mind-numbing but relaxing background hum were the sounds of clanking glass, murmured voices and the two ceiling fans that creaked as they moved the miasma of smoke and outside smog around. It was a quiet bar. Always had been whenever Zack had been here which was why he kept returning when the need hit him.

The Soldier sipped at his glass, finally starting to feel the effect of the liquor. He'd gone through the first bottle quickly. Luckily the bartender knew him by now and so didn't stop him when he started to poured glass after glass, drinking them down fast as humanly possible. He'd gone straight for the bottle once, but even mako had limits – or maybe it was his stomach – and he had puked it up a minute after he had downed the whole thing in one swing. Hadn't even gotten a buzz for all his troubles that time.

The only waitress working tonight passed by and Zack quietly ordered a basket of chips. He needed something to munch on. She took his order with a small, weary smile. This bar seemed to be where people went when they really wanted to be alone and he wondered if that affected her as well. As if working here was slowly sapping all the happiness and joy from her life. He felt a little bad for her as she walked away to fill his order but he didn't do anything about it. More than likely if he did, yes she might cheer up at first, but after awhile she'd become annoyed and Zack, right now, really couldn't handle that.

Gulping down the next glass just as she returned, he thanked the waitress for her speedy delivery and pulled the basket closer to him all without making eye contact. Making eye contact would show some sort of emotion, whether it be his or hers didn't matter but he didn't want that either.

He poured another glass.

He wondered what his troops would say if they saw him now, hunched in some dark bar corner, drinking like there was no tomorrow and – most surprisingly – doing it all nice and quiet like. They'd probably have a collective heart attack.

He could do quiet. He could. He was doing it right now in fact. He was quiet while sleeping too but he doubted that counted. He was quiet on missions. And in meetings and when he was watching someone train and when he was trying to get away from some prank he just pulled. Hmm, maybe that last one wasn't a good example.

And during funerals.

Well… damn.

He finished his glass but didn't pour another, not just yet.

He really didn't like funerals. Yeah, someone had just died and yeah it was sad but really got him were how much crying there was in one place. Not that he begrudged anyone to cry over their lost ones but… Zack hated crying. Crying and all it entailed. The loneliness, the agony and grief, the loss of hope, even if for just a moment. And afterward, everyone would get together and cry some more. Shared misery until that was all anyone could see and feel. Zack hated it.

He didn't mind the funerals that ended with people sharing stories about the one that was lost. Embarrassing stories, humorous stories, awkward stories. Stories about how great or clumsy the person was or how 'that one time they', or 'remember when'. Those were good funerals. Funerals when people were able to express their lost but not be consumed by it. The world was too small and life too short to be overcome by such sadness.

But, at least it seemed to him, that those types of funerals were few and far between. Or maybe it was living in the military and just seeing fellow comrades die and the only crying eyes in the room were those of family and close friends. The military didn't cry, that was weakness and if one were weak, one couldn't be in the military.

Bullshit.

He downed another glass not remembering when he refilled it but caring little. All that pent up emotion was going to backlash one day and Zack only hoped he was on some far off hill with a pair of binoculars to see it.

He'd probably be by himself.

Bloody hell. Where'd that thought come from? Other than him having been thinking it since before he arrived. Obviously the alcohol wasn't doing its job properly if he was still thinking along those lines. He glared at the offensive bottle but it sat coolly on the table, a single bead of condensation the only sign that it was cowering under his heated gaze.

Wait, was he arguing with a glass bottle? And still coherent enough to realize it? Well, double damn. Either he wasn't drunk enough or too drunk. Or was it the some other way? Maybe he was just right…? Like Goldilocks? But he wasn't a bear, was he? Wait… Great, he just confused himself. Which meant…

He took another swallow.

What had he been thinking about? Oh, yeah, standing on a hill watching Shinra being blown up by a mass of emotionally repressed soldiers. Heh, that'd be a sight. He probably would be alone, wouldn't he? With another mouthful of liquor to fortify him he was better prepared for that line of reasoning. Alone… That was the problem, wasn't it? The reason he was sitting here in this _lonesome_ bar in some booth all _alone_. He was alone. All alone. There really wasn't anyone to… well, talk to? Be with? However and which ever way that was. Just to have someone, to spend time with. That understood him and liked him and didn't…

Wasn't annoyed with him.

They're been Aeris. For awhile. She'd probably been his best hope too. Fucking ironic that he finally found someone that wasn't irritated by him within three weeks of Shiva and the reason they broke up was because he – ha, get this – wasn't around. How great was that? Someone who could _actually_ stand him for long periods of time but he wasn't even around to enjoy it. Everyone else joked, before they broke up anyway, that Aeris was lucky because she had a few weeks to recover between visits. Zack had taken it all in stride. Jokes against him didn't really hurt. You really shouldn't dish out what you can't take it.

But that wasn't why he was here. No, they had broken up a few weeks ago and Zack had celebrated by visiting here. See a trend? No? Ah well. Didn't matter. No one knew he came here anyway. Not even Sephiroth. Not that the General would care. He'd be the first in line – a very long line apparently – that Zack was exasperating and should be muzzled.

Fingers met the bottom of the basket and Zack blinked. He was more surprised though to see another bowl, full, placed at the end of the table. Mentally upping the waitresses tip, he switched the baskets and started in again.

Was it too much to ask for a drinking partner?

But, no – or did he mean yes? – it was. Whatever.

Boy, he was sounding like Seph now. Hmm, would Seph be next to him on that hilltop? Ha, yeah, right. Sephiroth was the epitome of 'emotionally repressed'. He'd be right there in the middle of the tower, sparking like Ramuh seconds before exploding.

…Seph dead. Well there was a depressing thought. Even if the other didn't like it, Zack did count him as one of his closest friends. Sad isn't it. His 'best friend' was someone that only gave him the time of day because it was mandatory.

How, might one ask, that he, so clearly a charming and friendly person had so few friends? And why, since that was the whole reason for this particular excursion, was he getting to it now? He never did say he wasn't emotionally repressed himself; it was just in a different way. He 'repressed' reality. Or that's what others would say. Zack would simply say, with a smile mind you, that the world was too small and life too short.

And it was. It really was. There was too much to do and see and feel and think for one to get all wrapped up in their own affairs and think they're the center and reason for it all. Life and time moved on whether you liked it not, whether you cared or not, so you might as well enjoy it. Yes, there was pain, yes there was sadness, but that just made the joy and entertaining times all the more enjoyable. Sadness all the time, or happiness, was too much of the same thing and made life monotonous.

Zack understood that. Despite appearances he was very smart. He _was_ a Second Class Soldier quickly on his way to First. One of the youngest to boot. And they didn't hand that grade out to just anyone, you know. In fact, currently Sephiroth was the _only _other First Class. Take that Mrs. Jerrie, his third grade teacher.

He had just hoped, just wished that others would start to see the world as he did. Or at least understand it as he did.

He wished Lewis would see it that way.

One gloved finger gingerly touched his right eye. If he hadn't started drinking tonight, the mako in his blood would have it mostly healed by morning. As it stood, it didn't look as bad as it should but people could still tell he had a black eye; it just looked a few weeks old and not a few hours old as it really was. Or was it longer than that? Huh, he couldn't see the clock very well from here, kinda dim and blurry. And he wasn't wearing a watch so that was out of the question. Wonder if he could borrow the bartenders for awhile. Probably not.

Lewis was right to punch him though. He was smart, remember? He understood Lewis's side of things, even if the man didn't see his. Lewis had lost a friend, a close friend in the last mission and, like usual, Zack had crossed the line. Made a joke, like usual, about how at least now McKinley wouldn't have to deal with the mess hall food. That was when Lewis had punched him.

Hmm, maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought. For all his people skills he could never tell when enough was enough. Well, no, he did figure it out but always after he jumped over the line with both feet.

He had pissed off yet another set of people that he wanted as friends. Another group that he had tried so hard to befriend and hang out with. The others had held him back after Lewis's hit, thinking a fight would start but it hadn't been necessary. Zack had simply stood there; a little stunned from the strike, one hand going slowly to his face, but he didn't retaliate against the other. Didn't move toward or say anything to him. Just looked at him, hurt more from the strike of a friend then the hit itself. His gaze was met by a heated glower, also with a hint of betrayal in it. After that, Zack had left with no goodbyes or parting. Not telling anyone where he was going. Not that anyone would care.

He came straight here.

Zack tipped the bottle for another glass but once again was met with just a small trickle of liquor before a few fast drops fell, splashing to the bottom of his glass.

"Another, sir?"

Zack pulled his head up to see the waitress before his table, a full bottle in hand. For a moment he wavered, wanting to nod and take the offering but finally, slowly, declined. He wasn't sure how late it was but he should start on his way back. Tomorrow, at least he was pretty sure it was tomorrow, was a big day. Shinra was getting another load of cannon fodder. Joy, just what they needed, more wet behind the ears, naïve, innocent young boys with dreams of being and doing great things.

"I'll get your bill then?"

"'ure." Zack slurred. Might as well. He waited until she returned with his bill, and after making sure he paid, probably overly much but he didn't want to underpay and not be allowed to come back. Also, the waitress was pretty good. He had to make sure she was paid well, what for working in this little misery sinkhole and all. He stood and, one hand on the booths and wall for support, slowly made his way out. He really wasn't that drunk. A very good buzz, yes, but he could make it back with little problems.

Maybe, pathetically, he could make friends with some of the new recruits. He meant pathetically not because any newbie's were pathetic but because he was. He, who had been at Shinra for over four years, had to go friend shopping. It was becoming too much of a habit. It was a habit he wished he could get rid of.

He just wanted one friend. One really good friend. A best friend. Someone to talk with, joke with, hang out and pull pranks with. Someone that, even if they didn't share his 'happy-go-lucky' view of the world, could at least understand it. Understand and not be so irritated to flee by it. Was that too much to ask?

Well, he wasn't going to meet anyone here, and certainly not if he looked like hell in the morning. Some good beauty sleep would cure that though.

He finally made it to the bar door, pausing briefly to clear his head and gather his bearings. Standing up straight and feeling a tad better now that he vented in his own way, Zackary Fair stepped out into the chill, smog filled night and made his way toward his apartment. Tomorrow would be good day. New people to meet, new things to do, new things to see.

The world was too just small and life too short.


End file.
